


Patrick Wears His New Panties

by thegrayness



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Established Relationship, Lace Panties, Lingerie, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: Patrick wears his new panties to work and David can’t keep his eyes—and hands—off him.Follows the events ofPatrick Wears Panties, but can be read alone.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 17
Kudos: 166





	Patrick Wears His New Panties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [this_is_not_nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_not_nothing/gifts).



> Whenever I'm bored with the fic I'm supposed to be working on, I ask TINN and Liz for prompts. TINN has prompted: "The Patrick wears panties sex after being at the store all day together know Patrick has on panties" on more than one occasion, and this time I accepted. 
> 
> Thanks to [TINN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_not_nothing/pseuds/this_is_not_nothing) and [Liz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly) for the excessive cheerleading that I require. 
> 
> Title by TINN inspired heavily by [sonlali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/pseuds/sonlali). Sorry about the missing emoji this time.

David lasts about three hours into the workday before he crowds Patrick up against the front counter and kisses him breathless. Patrick’s flushed when he finally pulls back, but he’s smirking, too, and David can’t blame him, because Patrick’s not been doing anything different except wearing panties underneath his well-fitting jeans, and it’s driving David crazy. 

“You lasted a lot longer than I thought you would,” Patrick murmurs, sliding his hands up David’s chest. “You kept looking at me.”

David presses closer, leaning his forehead against Patrick’s. “I can’t help it. I know what’s under these.” He tugs at Patrick’s belt loops. 

Patrick grins and David presses his lips to the flush on his cheeks. “You can’t even see them,” he says, but he squirms in David’s arms anyway. David flutters his eyes closed as Patrick slips his hands into the short hair at the back of David’s head. He hums happily against Patrick’s cheek, sliding his hands into Patrick’s back pockets, giving his ass a quick squeeze and reveling in the quiet groan he lets out. 

“When I look at you, I keep picturing you from this morning, checking yourself out in the mirror,” David whispers. 

“I like you looking at me,” Patrick says, tilting his head up for a kiss.

“I know,” David replies, meeting Patrick’s lips with his own.

The bell on the door rings before they can get carried away, and the fact that it’s Stevie is both a blessing and a curse. 

“I’d like to walk into this store one time _without_ seeing you two sucking face,” she says, crossing her arms and propping her hip against the center table. 

Patrick clears his throat and straightens out his button-up. “Nice to see you, Stevie.”

“Actually it’s not—what do you want?” David says, crossing his own arms and glaring at her. 

“Hey, I’m just here to get another one of those massage candles, you’re welcome for my patronage since the store is empty, by the way.” She smiles fakely and heads to the back wall.

“I’ll have you know we were busy just ten minutes ago.”

“Okay,” Stevie says, and David catches Patrick smiling to himself as he grabs the spray bottle from under the counter and starts spritzing the greens in the front of the store.

“We _were_!” David insists. “Try the lavender vanilla this time,” he offers, because even though Stevie is the _worst_ he still wants her to have nice things. 

She smirks at him through the entire checkout process, and he glares back and scoffs when she tosses a “Enjoy the afternoon rush,” at him over her shoulder when she walks out the door. 

The jokes on Stevie, because there _is_ an afternoon rush, and David and Patrick don’t get another moment alone until just before closing, and David is going to lose his mind.

Everything Patrick does, including sweeping, _god_ , is making David’s whole body flush. He keeps picturing Patrick without those jeans, without his rolled-up sleeves, moving with the same confidence he always does. David’s restocking the body milk while Patrick closes out the register, and he’s leaning all the way over the counter, and David can’t even _see_ his ass, but the image of Patrick in those blue lace panties doing mundane things like _math_ makes David have to pause and lean his hand against a shelf to catch his breath. 

“You okay, David?” Patrick calls out, and David can tell he was trying to hide a smirk. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” David says, shoving the last few bottles onto the shelf. “You almost done?”

“Why, are you in a rush?”

“ _Patrick_.”

“Hmm?” Patrick bites at the top of his pen and looks up at David through his lashes. 

“Okay, _yes_ , I’m in a rush because I want to get you home and out of your clothes, _god_ , there I said it.” David walks over to the counter as Patrick stands up straight. 

Patrick grins. “I’ve been done for five minutes, I just like watching you pretend you’re not staring at me.”

David’s jaw drops. “I hate you,” he says, stepping around the counter and hauling Patrick in by the front of his shirt. This kiss is fast, and rough, and kind of bruising, the way David winds his arms around Patrick’s neck and Patrick bites at David’s lower lip. Patrick gets his hands under David’s sweater, dragging one palm up David’s spine and sliding the fingertips of his other hand beneath the waistband of David’s pants. 

Patrick presses forward, turns them so he’s pressing David against the counter, the tabletop digging into his back. Breathing harshly against Patrick’s mouth, David manages to get a grip on Patrick’s hair, angling him just right before slipping his tongue between Patrick’s parted lips. 

Patrick’s making little whining noises in the back of his throat, and David feels Patrick’s hands at the back of his thighs, gripping hard and tugging, shoving him up onto the counter. David loses his balance for a moment, arm scrambling over the counter to find leverage and subsequently knocking several containers of breath mints onto the floor. 

The noise slows them down, but they don’t pull away from each other for another minute, exchanging tender kisses while their breath returns to normal. Patrick tips forward to press his face into David’s neck, and David smooths his hands up and down Patrick’s back. “Let’s go home,” he says softly. “I’ll fix the mints, you put the money in the safe.”

“You just don’t think I know how the mints go,” Patrick mumbles, lips brushing the sensitive skin of David’s throat. 

“Yes,” David agrees, kissing Patrick’s forehead as he leans back. Then he kisses the pout off Patrick’s face, pushing him back by the shoulders so David has enough room to hop down. 

Patrick kisses him again before they get started on their assigned tasks, and David fills it with as much promise as he can. 

*

They crash through the door of the apartment, Patrick pushing David backward in the direction of the bed, tugging his own shirt out of his pants without separating their lips. The kiss is barely anything, both of them distracted, but David doesn’t want to pull away, keeps his hands on Patrick’s hips until his legs hit the bed. 

Patrick’s shirt hits the floor and David tightens his hold on Patrick to spin them around, all but shoving Patrick down onto the bed. Patrick lets out a breathless laugh that tail ends into a groan as David pulls his sweater over his head. “David,” he gasps, and he sounds desperate already, making David grin as he crawls up the bed to lean in for a deep kiss.

He straddles Patrick’s hips and makes quick work of the button and zipper on his pants, pulling his fly open and getting a look at the thing that’s been driving him crazy all day. He tugs the jeans roughly down to Patrick’s thighs, smoothing his hands over the lace on Patrick’s hips.

Patrick gasps when David’s fingers ghost over the hard length of his dick through the lace, curses breathlessly when David rubs against him. David drags his eyes up Patrick’s body, takes in the flush spreading down his chest, the sweat gathering in his collarbone, the glassy-eyed look he’s giving David. 

David grins. “You—” he starts, petting at Patrick’s hips again, at the lace there, “look so fucking _good_ , Patrick,” he says, sliding his hands up Patrick’s chest to tease at his nipples. David realizes he’s still wearing pants, and shoes, so he bends down to press a gentle kiss to Patrick’s sternum. “Don’t move.”

Patrick throws an arm over his face and wiggles his hips against the bed, groaning softly. 

“Won’t be a minute,” David assures him, kissing lightly over his dick through his panties before climbing off the bed. He undresses quickly, haphazardly folding his pants and tossing them on the chair next to the bed. He rids Patrick of his shoes, and finishes tugging his pants down his legs, leaving them in a pile on the floor. 

Patrick shifts again and David catches a glimpse of the back of the panties, if you could even call it that. It’s strappy, like a web, showing enough skin that Patrick may as well not be wearing anything at all. 

They’re perfect, easy access, and David wants to _see_. 

He kisses up the pale skin of Patrick’s thigh, hovering briefly over his cock, breathing warmly, watching him move restlessly. He rewards Patrick with another kiss, this one to the head of his dick, over the dampening patch of lace. David breathes in through his mouth, inhales the taste of Patrick, and lets it out in a throaty moan. 

“David,” Patrick pants, hands fisted in the sheets. He repeats David’s name again, knocking his foot into David’s ribs. “Please,” he says. 

David smirks and kisses the same spot again. “Let’s turn you over, hm?” David murmurs, nudging at Patrick’s hips and guiding him onto his front. “Get comfortable,” he instructs as he brushes his fingers over Patrick’s ass cheeks, comparing the feeling of the material to the feeling of Patrick’s smooth skin.

He presses a kiss between two straps, dragging his lips a little, feeling Patrick tremble beneath him. He sits up to adjust Patrick’s position, grabbing a pillow to lift him a bit, get him in the perfect position. 

“You want more?” David asks, nuzzling against the back of his thigh. 

Patrick makes an affirmative noise. 

“What was that?” David asks again, biting his thigh, hard. 

“ _Fuck_ , yes, please, David, just—”

He tries to get his knees under him for leverage, and David lets him, tugs his hips up to help. He reaches between Patrick’s legs, rubbing his palm over the hard line of his dick, dragging the soaked fabric over the sensitive skin. He slips a finger between Patrick’s cheeks, rubbing lightly, teasingly, against his hole. 

Patrick gives a thready moan, muffled by the pillow he’s shoved his face into, and pushes back against David’s finger. David kisses his way closer to where Patrick wants his mouth, uses his other hand to grab one of Patrick’s ass cheeks, exposing Patrick’s hole, giving himself better access. “Yeah?” David says against his rim, letting his tongue peek out to tease him. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Patrick says, and David can almost hear the pout in his voice—impatient and needy and they’ve barely started. Watching Patrick devolve like this is beautiful. 

David huffs out a laugh, his breath making Patrick’s hole clench at the sensation, and he presses a soft kiss there to soothe him. 

“ _David,”_ Patrick starts, edgy, but David doesn’t let him finish, instead he presses right in to lick a wet stripe over Patrick’s hole with the flat of his tongue, making sure to get him as wet as possible. Patrick cries out, shoves his hips back, and David tucks his fingers underneath a few straps on Patrick’s underwear to haul him closer. 

The way Patrick reacts to this, to David’s mouth, always makes David smirk. The first time he’d done it, Patrick had lasted thirty seconds before he got a hand around himself and came all over his stomach. 

Patrick lets out a strangled gasp when David bites the crease of his thigh, dragging his bristly cheek back over his ass to lick over his hole. He dips his pointed tongue inside, feels Patrick clench around him, letting the sound of Patrick panting his name wash over him. David’s hard in his own underwear, and he attempts to adjust his own position to get some friction on his cock without disrupting the rhythm of driving Patrick crazy. 

“David, David, David,” Patrick says urgently, and David finally pulls back, pressing an open, sloppy kiss to Patrick’s wet hole. 

“Okay, Patrick.” He nudges his thumb inside Patrick, grinning at the loud moan it draws.

“David,” Patrick says again, breathing harsh in the quiet of their apartment. 

David pushes Patrick flat on the bed so he can trail his lips up Patrick’s spine, detouring briefly to Patrick’s ribcage to feel him twitch when David hits the ticklish spot near his waist. He makes his way higher, licking up Patrick’s spine. He bites at Patrick’s shoulder, soothing the sting with a kiss.

“Hmm?” He hums, lips fluttering along the slope of Patrick’s neck. He rocks his hips against Patrick’s ass. “Something you want?” He murmurs, lips grazing the shell of Patrick’s ear. 

“Want—” Patrick breaks off into a moan when David licks at the sensitive spot under his ear. “Want to ride you, David. Please.”

David presses his smile to the nape of Patrick’s neck. “Yeah?” He slides over so he’s laying next to Patrick on the bed, nuzzles in close to Patrick’s cheek. “That what you want?” He scratches his fingernails through the hair at the base of Patrick’s head. 

Patrick wiggles around until he’s on his side facing David. His cheeks are flushed a bright red, eyes wide and wet, bottom lip sucked between his teeth. David reaches up to tug it free, leaning forward for a deep, lush kiss. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and Patrick’s eyes flutter in a slow blink. He’s canting his hips forward, slowly rubbing against David’s thigh, and he tips his head for another kiss, getting his tongue between David’s lips.

They get stuck here sometimes, in the best way, their whole world minimized to the pinpoint of their lips pressed together. Patrick hooks his arm around David’s neck, tugging, as if David could get any closer than plastered to Patrick’s front. 

David hooks a leg over Patrick’s thigh, snaking a hand down to grab Patrick’s ass, shoving their hips together, their rhythm getting sloppy and out of sync. When David brushes his fingers over Patrick’s still-open hole, Patrick all but whines against David’s skin. 

Patrick pulls away from the mark he was definitely leaving at the base of David’s throat. “Wait,” he pants, swallowing audibly. “I had—wanna ride you, David, please.”

“Yes, yes, okay.” David nods, leaning away to grab the lube.

“Wait,” Patrick says again, and David swings back around to look at him. 

“Something else?” He smirks, because Patrick _does_ sometimes have trouble deciding what he wants. 

“No, I mean yes. I mean _yes_ I want to ride you but first can you…” He trails off, tapping two fingers where his hand is resting on David’s chest. 

David grins. “You want me to use my fingers first,” he says, low and teasing, and Patrick presses his face into David’s neck to hide. 

“Please.” Patrick’s voice is muffled and David can feel the vibration against his throat. Patrick starts to kiss where his lips are resting. 

“Okay, c’mon,” David says, nudging Patrick away and carefully maneuvering them so David’s flat on his back and Patrick is straddling his hips. 

“Wait—” Patrick says again, scooting down David’s legs and tugging David’s underwear down with him. He awkwardly reaches behind himself to flap a hand at the garment, pushing it down past David’s knees until David can kick his briefs across the room. “There,” Patrick sighs, knee-walking back up David’s body and settling himself right over David’s dick. He rolls his hips down, almost swaying them, letting the lace of his panties rub deliciously along David’s length. 

David groans, squeezes Patrick’s hips, his gaze sweeping over Patrick’s flushed chest, down his torso, catching on the sight of Patrick’s dick straining against the front of his panties, the wet spot growing as Patrick leaks against the fabric. David reaches out to rub a finger teasingly against the head. 

Patrick gasps out David’s name, hips bucking forward, and David really wants to get his mouth on Patrick’s dick. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, urging Patrick forward with his hands tight on the back of Patrick’s thighs. “Just—let me—”

Patrick lets out a short laugh and pushes a hand through the front of David’s hair, tilting his head to the side as he presses his hips in close. Releasing Patrick’s hips with a squeeze, David hooks his fingers in the waist of Patrick’s underwear, sliding the lace down just enough to fit his mouth over the head of Patrick’s dick. 

The hand in his hair tightens briefly before sliding down to fit snugly around David’s jaw. Patrick blows out a shaky breath as David slides his mouth down, savoring the stretch in his lips and in his jaw, the taste of Patrick on his tongue, the sound of Patrick murmuring soft, sweet nonsense at him. 

Patrick thrusts his hips forward slightly before backing up, pulling David off completely. He’s panting, they both are, and Patrick brushes his thumb across David’s mouth. “David,” Patrick says, and doesn’t elaborate, but David knows what he wants. He licks gently at Patrick’s dick while Patrick leans over to successfully locate the lube

Patrick takes one of David’s hands, plucks it off his hip, and dumps a puddle in his palm. It’s awkward for a few moments, getting the lube on his fingers without getting it literally everywhere else, given their positions that David absolutely does not want to move from. He mouths absently at the underside of Patrick’s dick as he reaches behind Patrick, fingers slipping across his cheek to rub against his hole. Patrick’s gasp-whine in response makes David groan, too, lips pressed to Patrick’s balls, still tucked into his panties. 

He slips two fingers in, Patrick’s open enough for it, and has to close his eyes at the feeling of Patrick, burning hot around him. He drags his fingers, in and out, a few times, listening to the little noises that punch out of Patrick. 

Patrick’s got one hand back in David’s hair and one hand braced on the headboard, and he’s rocking his hips—tiny movements matching the rhythm of David’s fingers. “Fuck,” he breathes on one particularly hard thrust, and David uses his free hand to stroke Patrick’s cock. “Ah,” Patrick cries out, hips shoving forward then back, like he doesn’t know what he wants more. “David.”

David grins. “Yeah, honey?”

Instead of answering, Patrick just shuffles himself backward, David’s fingers slipping out of him as he lifts his ass up slightly, and he tips forward to shove his tongue into David’s mouth. 

David grunts in surprise, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s back, one hand grabbing Patrick’s ass, fingers sliding over his hole. 

Patrick is all but chanting David’s name, as much as he can do that while still kissing David. He pulls away, taking in huge gulps of air, when David gets a finger inside of him. “I—” He starts, but ducks his head, as if David hasn’t already spent ten minutes today with his face buried in Patrick’s ass. David thinks they’re beyond bashfulness by now, but leans up to press a comforting kiss to Patrick’s cheek anyways. 

“What do you need?” 

Patrick looks him in the eye, cheeks flushed and lips bright pink. “I need you to fuck me and make me come in these panties, David.”

David is momentarily stunned, because three seconds ago Patrick was on the verge of stammering. He can’t help the grin that breaks out at the thought of Patrick being _so_ turned on that any reluctance he has about asking for what he wants has just flown out the window. “I think we can handle that,” David says, kissing him gently, slowly, drawing it out just enough for Patrick to shift impatiently, rubbing himself over whatever part of David he can get to. 

“David,” he whimpers, the sound muffled by David’s lips. 

“I know. I’ve got you,” David whispers, fumbling for the lube where he dropped it somewhere on the bed. He gets as much lube on as he can considering Patrick is distracting him by worrying a bruise on the slope of his shoulder, one that might be covered by the collar of his sweaters, or it might not. 

He nudges Patrick away, ignoring his whine of protest, and uses his free hand on Patrick’s waist to position Patrick over his cock. Patrick lays his hands on David’s chest for balance, and David watches Patrick’s face closely as he sinks down slowly, like he always does, biting his lip and fluttering his eyes as he takes David deeper. 

Once his ass is snug in the cradle of David’s hips, Patrick straightens up, rests his hands on his own thighs, circles his hips experimentally. The movement makes his dick bob ridiculously between them, and David wraps his lubed fingers around it, stroking slowly as Patrick works himself on David’s cock. 

When Patrick starts fucking himself in earnest, lifting his hips and dropping them down hard enough to force a “ _Fuck_ ,” from his own mouth, David lets go of his dick, tucking it back into the panties as best he can. Which is—it’s not easy, because Patrick is huge and hard and leaking and the panties only just cover him. The head of his dick is still peeking out from the top of the lace. 

David can’t focus on that anymore, though, because Patrick is a gorgeous sight in front of him—head thrown back as he rides David. He’s sweaty, moisture beading up in his collarbone, down his biceps, over his chest. David slides his hand around Patrick’s waist to feel the slick skin of his lower back. He uses his other hand to rub across Patrick’s chest, fingers catching and staying on a nipple, pinching it lightly to hear the hitch in Patrick’s quick breaths. He does it again, harder, to hear the moan Patrick always lets out, grins at him when Patrick lifts his head to meet David’s eyes. 

“Fuck,” he says harshly. “I need—like this.” He braces himself on David’s shoulders before slowly, _so_ slowly, pulling off David’s dick and nearly throwing himself onto his back on the bed. 

“Please?” He says unnecessarily, as if there is anything David wouldn’t do for him. “I just—” He heaves a deep breath and looks at David pleadingly. 

“Okay.” David turns onto his side and smooths a hand over Patrick’s chest, leaning over to press a few kisses there, too. He lets his hand drift down to Patrick’s cock, touching him gently with the tips of two fingers. “You ready to come for me?”

Patrick groans weakly and his hips jump beneath David’s hand. David smirks, and Patrick’s not too far gone to huff out a laugh and roll his eyes. “Get over here,” Patrick rasps, curling his fingers around the back of David’s neck to pull him in for a sweet kiss, leaning over to sneak his other hand down to wrap around David’s dick. “I’m ready for you to make me come,” he whispers, biting at David’s lower lip. 

David pushes Patrick flat on his back again with a hand in the center of his chest and arranges them both to his liking until Patrick’s legs are spread around David’s hips. He hooks his hands under Patrick’s knees to push them up, exposing Patrick even more. 

Gasping softly, Patrick slips his own hands there, making David smile. “Good,” he says, and Patrick trembles. The straps of Patrick’s underwear frame his hole, and the image makes David’s dick twitch between his legs. He takes a minute to look, running his fingers softly over Patrick’s hips, getting his fill of the way he looks stretched out over their bed, the different kind of confidence that seems to take over when Patrick wears these. 

Impatient, Patrick grabs David’s wrist. “I need—” 

“I know.” David leans over and gets more lube, because why not, and slicks himself up. He pushes his thumb into Patrick—just wants to see him bite his lip and sigh in pleasure, wants to see Patrick’s hole clench around his finger. 

Then he’s pressing his hips in close, replacing his thumb with the head of his dick, and pushing in until he can’t anymore, until Patrick drops his legs and wraps them tight around David’s hips. “David,” he groans out, long and low, palming his dick where it’s tucked into his panties. “Oh— _oh_.” He arches his back slightly, pulling David in further, and David has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep from coming right then. 

Patrick nudges him into motion, digging his heels into his ass with a breathy _move_. David starts up a slow rhythm, relishing the feel of Patrick around him, tight and so hot and _perfect_. He’s gripping Patrick’s hips, probably hard enough to leave bruises, and Patrick has one hand wrapped around a bar on the headboard, the other still rubbing at his cock through his underwear. His hips are tilting up to meet David on every thrust and he’s got his head thrown back, mouth wide open, gasping and moaning and—

David delivers a particularly hard thrust and Patrick’s eyes fly open, he lifts his head, “Oh, _fuck_ ,” he says, grabbing and squeezing David’s wrist as he tightens his legs around David’s hips almost painfully and comes with a cry. David watches, breathless, as Patrick shakes, watches the dampness spread over his panties, the steel-blue darkening where Patrick’s come is dripping. 

He can’t help it, he reaches out to drag his fingers over Patrick’s dick, making Patrick jerk dramatically. He feels Patrick pulse again, fingers skating gently over his sensitive head to see him squirm. Patrick does, David feels his cock twitch in his hand, feels more wetness leak through the lace. 

David thinks, wildly, about the cleaning method for these, but then Patrick’s relaxing, letting his legs fall open, heaving a huge breath, and tugging David’s arm to pull him down for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss that brings David’s focus right back to his need to come _immediately_. “David, you— _god_ ,” Patrick mumbles into David’s mouth. “You can—please. On me?”

Pressing several more kisses to Patrick’s lips, David nods against his cheek. He shifts back, carefully pulling out and getting his knees on the outside of Patrick’s thighs so he’s straddling him. He looks up, and Patrick’s got his fingers in his mouth, licking _something_ from the pad of his thumb. Patrick catches his gaze and shoots him a look—half-smirk, half-shy smile.

David groans and wraps a hand around himself, eyes locked on Patrick’s as Patrick reaches down to wipe at the mess he’s made and brings his fingers back to his mouth to showily suck his come off. David’s orgasm—that’s been building for what seems like _hours_ , since he put these panties on Patrick this morning—rushes up, nearly knocks him over. 

He drops down over Patrick, bracing himself on one arm next to Patrick’s shoulder, jerking his cock fast as he feels like he might burn up from the inside. Patrick holds him with a hand around the back of his neck, and he’s murmuring something, probably sweet and soft, because he’s _Patrick_ , and then David’s coming, moaning out Patrick’s name as streaks of come land over Patrick’s dick, over his belly and his hips. 

David all but collapses over Patrick, trying to pitch his body to the side to avoid crushing him, and he smashes his face into the pillow, arm trapped under his body where his hand is still wrapped around his dick. “Oh my god,” he groans into the pillow. He hears Patrick let out a soft laugh, feels Patrick’s lips flutter over his shoulder. 

“You okay?” Patrick asks, and David finds the energy to turn his head and face him. His eyes are bright and happy and he’s grinning, blinking slowly. 

“Are _you_ okay?”

“Amazing.”

It’s David’s turn to laugh, and he presses the sound to Patrick’s lips.

They stay there, kissing and smiling, Patrick sighing happily every few minutes, doing great things for David’s ego. Patrick turns to lay on his side to fully face David and winces. “This isn’t nice,” he says, glancing down his torso. David follows his gaze and remembers the utter mess they left on Patrick’s panties. 

He lays a sound kiss on Patrick’s lips. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Patrick gives David an exaggerated pout as he climbs off the bed first. Patrick reaches out with grabby hands. “Carry me.”

David rolls his eyes and slaps playfully at Patrick’s fingers before grabbing his hands and pulling him off the bed, catching him around the waist when he stumbles. Patrick kisses him again, catching him off guard. 

When they finally break apart, David rests his forehead against Patrick’s, sliding his hands around to Patrick’s ass to give it a squeeze. “C’mon,” he says, walking back towards the bathroom. “I’ll give you a scalp massage in the shower.”

After their shower, it takes David less time than usual to talk Patrick into ordering takeout even though they have leftovers in the fridge. “You can choose what we order.” David ends his argument with a kiss to Patrick’s cheek, and Patrick doesn’t even offer a counter-argument. Just gives him a peck on the lips and grabs the menu for David’s favorite Thai place. 

“I love you,” David says later through a mouthful of curry puff. 

Patrick looks up from his green curry. “You love Thai food,” he replies, but David watches a blush bloom slowly over his cheeks. Though that could be the curry. 

“I do.” David smiles down at his plate. “But you’re _easily_ a close second.”  
  



End file.
